Needing Nicole (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy Book 2) (23 page)

Jack’s heart thumped heavily, and his mind raced. “And this was when?”

“Well, we stopped around two. It was close to two-thirty when that bastard creamed me. I woke up a little after three.”

“Christ, Paul, it’s four-thirty. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“It took me this long to convince the owner of the service station that I wasn’t some nut case... plus I couldn’t even remember your number.”

Jack ran his hand through his hair. Arnold was probably already in New Orleans. Hell, he might even be outside this minute, watching the house. He might have even seen them come inside. Jack looked around, fear clutching at him. He could see the wide expanse of the picture window, and looking the other way, the windows overlooking the backyard. His throat felt dry, and his palms felt clammy.

“Jack—”

Just the way O’Malley said his name caused Jack’s breath to stop.

“There’s something else.” O’Malley waited one heartbeat. “He took my gun.”

The words reverberated over the wire. Stark. Frightening. Icy-cold fear slithered along Jack’s spine.

A gun.

Derek Arnold had Paul’s gun.

At this very moment, he could be within yards of the house, with a gun. Jack swallowed.

“The police finally believed me, and of course, they’ve got a description of the car and the license number and all that, so I’m sure they’ll catch up with him.”

“You were driving your Thunderbird?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. Dark green, looks almost black unless you’re up close to it. Plates read 742 FQD.”

Jack wrote down the numbers. “Where are you now? And what’re you going to do?”

“I’m in the sheriff’s office in west Baton Rouge. I’ll call my wife. She can order a rental car for me. Have it delivered here, or maybe one of these guys’ll take me to the rental place to pick it up.” He sighed. “Listen, Jack, I’m really sorry. I know I screwed up. Be careful.” He hesitated, then said, “Do you want me to come to New Orleans?”

“No.”

“My advice is, call the cops. The whole game’s changed now that he’s got a gun. In my opinion, the guy’s a
loose cannon, considerin’ what he did to me.”

That’s what Jack thought, too. He snorted. “What am I going to say to them? That I think he’s headed here? That I think he did something to his wife? That I think Nicole’s in danger? I have no proof of anything. No case.”

“Then why don’t you pack up the Cantrelle woman and take her somewhere safe? Forget about trappin’ Arnold. It’s too dangerous.”

“That’s exactly what I plan to do.” His heart pounded as he replaced the receiver. He’d been in all kinds of dangerous situations during his career. He’d covered wars. He’d covered hostage situations. He’d covered mob scenes, and terrorist hijackings. Nothing had ever scared him so thoroughly.

Of course, during those situations, he’d only had to worry about his own skin.

Now he had something infinitely more precious to worry about.

He walked back to Nicole’s bedroom. She was bent over the bed, just shutting a small suitcase. She’d changed clothes, put on jeans, socks and loafers, a bright orange sweatshirt. She turned, smiled. “Jack...” She frowned. “What’s wrong? Was that Paul O’Malley on the phone?” He nodded, quickly told her what Paul had said. He saw her face go still. “A gun,” she said quietly.

“We have to get out of here, and fast,” he said.

She didn’t argue. She shut her suitcase, said, “I’m ready.” Met his gaze steadily.

Jack took a shaky breath. If anything happened to her... “Nicole.” It was a whisper, and he heard the fear in his voice. He reached for her.

She walked into his arms, raised her face, looked deeply into his eyes. Powerful emotions pummeled him. Fear for her safety. Love. “Whatever happens—”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” she said.

Her eyes were steady, full of trust. Her soft lips were parted, moist-looking. He cradled the back of her head, brought it forward and crushed his mouth to hers. He put everything he was feeling into the kiss. All the anxiety, all the torment, all the frustration, all the passion, all the love.

And she responded in kind.

They stayed fused for a long time. Jack lost himself in the deep recesses of her hot, sweet mouth. But finally he had to let her go. “Come on,” he said roughly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Mouth swollen from his kiss, eyes shadowed but not frightened, she nodded. She grabbed her big tote bag, slung it over her shoulder.

He picked up her suitcase.

She walked out of the bedroom, and he followed her. His own suitcase was in the hall. He picked it up, too.

When she would have opened the front door, he said, “No. Wait. Let me go out and put these bags in the car. I’ll look around first. You stay right here.”

“Okay.” Her dark eyes gleamed. Pink stained her cheeks. She opened the door and stood back to let him pass.

Everything happened so fast.

One moment Jack was stepping outside, looking around.

The next he was staring down the muzzle of a gun, and Derek Arnold was shouting, “You dirty, rotten son-of-a-bitch! Shackin’ up with my wife! Who the hell do you think you are? Where is she? Come out here, Elise! Get your butt out here, or you’re gonna be sorry!” His face was contorted with rage. “When I get my hands on you—”

Jack swung Nicole’s suitcase. The gun exploded and Jack staggered back, his left shoulder stinging. From somewhere behind him, Nicole screamed. “Jack! Jack!”

Derek leaped at him, cursing and muttering. “Goddamn you, I saw you kissing her. I saw you through the window. How long has this been goin’ on, huh?” He hit Jack in the face. Jack’s shoulder felt as if someone had stuck a hot poker in it, but he managed, with the last of his strength, to heave his own suitcase up and into Arnold’s face.

The next thing he knew he was lying on the ground.

* * *

When Jack fell, Nicole, who had been frantically trying to locate the can of Mace in her tote bag finally felt her fingers close around it. She flew out the door, spraying the can directly into Derek Arnold’s eyes.

He screamed. He dropped his gun, clutched at his eyes, still screaming. Heart pounding, Nicole knelt over Jack. He struggled to sit up. “Nicole! Get back in the house. Where’s Ar—”

Trembling with delayed reaction, Nicole said, “I sprayed him in the eyes.” She inclined her head. “He’s over there.” Arnold was half sitting, half standing against the trunk of a magnolia tree. He moaned and sobbed, his hands covering his eyes.

“Are you okay, Jack?” Her heart still felt as if it were trying to get out of her chest. She’d been so scared when she’d heard the gun go off. So scared. If anything had happened to Jack...

“I’m okay. It’s just my shoulder.”

His voice sounded weak to her. “Jack, here. Take this can of Mace in case he’s able to try something else, although I don’t think he’s in any shape to do anything for a while.”

“Wh-where are you going?”

“Inside. I’m going to call the police.”

“Hurry,” Jack said. “I’m starting to feel dizzy.”

Blood had begun welling from his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave him, but she knew she had to. She handed him the Mace, then ran to the house. She called the police, then raced back outside. Jack, clutching his shoulder, face white, looked as if he was about to pass out. But he was still holding the can of Mace, aimed at Arnold. She wanted to go to him. But she knew she couldn’t. Not yet.

Nicole looked around and finally saw what she’d been looking for. The gun lay in the grass a few feet away. She walked over, picked it up. She didn’t know much about pistols, but she did know how to shoot. She mentally thanked Norman for the lessons.

She walked over to Derek Arnold, who by now, had collapsed against the tree trunk. She spread her legs, raised the gun and pointed it directly at him. “Don’t move a muscle,” she said. “Or you’re dead.”

He whimpered.

Ten minutes later, Nicole heard the sirens. When a police cruiser, followed shortly by an ambulance, pulled into the driveway, dome lights flashing, Nicole finally let down her guard.

And as two officers and two paramedics rushed to her aid, she hurried to Jack’s side.

“Oh, Jack, are you okay?” Tears blinded her as she knelt by him.

But he didn’t answer.

He had passed out.

“Wh-where’s Arnold?” Jack said.

Nicole whirled around, a big smile splitting her face. “You’re awake!” Relief made her feel weak, and she clutched at the windowsill for a brief moment before quickly walking to Jack’s bedside. “I thought you were going to sleep forever,” she said tenderly. She pulled the bedside chair over close to the bed, sat and reached for his hand.

He clasped her hand, but she could feel how weak he was. “Am I in the hospital?” he said. He licked his lips.

“Yes, you’re in the hospital. You were shot in the shoulder. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, I guess. And I remember fighting with Arnold,. swinging a suitcase at him.” He frowned with the effort of concentrating, blue eyes cloudy. Then suddenly, they cleared, and he grinned. “I remember now! You sprayed him in the face with your Mace!” He laughed triumphantly, then grimaced. “Ow, that hurts.” He licked his lips again.

“Do you want some water?” There was a pain around her heart, as if someone were squeezing it. Each time she thought about what might have happened... if Jack had been a few inches over... if the bullet had gone through his heart instead of a muscle in his left shoulder.. .if.. .oh, God. She would have died if something had happened to him. It was in that moment of fear, when she’d realized he’d been shot, that she’d known his leaving her to go back to Houston, back to his nomadic life-style, wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her. No, the worst thing, the impossible thing, the not-to-be-borne thing, would be knowing Jack was gone forever, that the light in his eyes would never shine again, that his heart would never beat again—

Something of what she was feeling must have shown in her face because he said, “What is it?” His grip on her hand tightened.

“Oh, Jack. I was so scared…” Tears trembled in her eyes, and she had to fight against the urge to bury her face in his chest and cry out her relief.

“Nicole,” he whispered. “I’m all right.”

She nodded, sniffing. She reached for her tote bag, extracted a crumpled tissue, blew her nose.

“Now, come on, tell me about Arnold,” he said.

So she told him how the police had come and hauled Derek Arnold off, how a young officer had later come to the hospital to take her statement, how the lieutenant in charge had come still later to tell her that it looked as if Derek Arnold had really believed she was his wife.

“So Elise is definitely alive,” Jack said. He closed his eyes. “Damn. I wish I didn’t feel so tired. I’m anxious to try to locate her aunt.” He opened his eyes, looked at her. “What day is it, anyway? How much time have we lost?”

“It’s Tuesday. But quit worrying,” Nicole said. “Sleep. The only thing you need to concentrate on right now is getting stronger. Then we’ll look for Elise’s aunt.”

The following day Jack’s sister, Jenny, arrived. Nicole took one look at her—the same wonderful blue eyes, the concern and love in her worried expression—and knew she and Jenny would be friends.

And when Nicole impulsively hugged her, and Jenny, after only a moment’s hesitation, responded in kind, Nicole’s heart was almost too full to speak.,

“Jack’s told me a lot about you,” Jenny said.

“You, too,” Nicole echoed.

“I can’t get over how much you look like Elise.”

Nicole smiled.

“Is Jack going to be all right? I was so scared when you called. So afraid you weren’t telling me the whole truth.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Nicole assured her.

The two women smiled at each other, understanding without words that they each cared very much about the man in the room they were about to enter.

Nicole hung back, but she still had a clear view of Jack’s eyes when Jenny walked into the room. She saw the leap of happiness, the love and trust that was obvious in the way they held each other’s hands, the gentleness of the kiss Jenny gave him, the tender concern in her voice as they greeted each other. Seeing the way they felt about each other told Nicole a lot about Jack—that his facade of being a loner was just that—a facade. Obviously, his twin meant a lot to him, just as much as Nicole’s brothers and sister meant to her. It was also obvious that Jenny felt the same way.

For some reason, this made Nicole feel more hopeful about her own uncertain future where Jack was concerned.

That night, after a long conversation with her parents and Aimee, Nicole and Jenny ate dinner together. Jack had urged them to go. “I don’t want you two sitting around here all day and all night,” he said. Nicole had still not gone back to work, and she thanked God she had stockpiled so much vacation time. She felt a little guilty about running out on Julianne when they were so busy, but Julianne had told her not to worry about anything.

During dinner, Nicole brought Jenny completely up to date on everything she and Jack had managed to ferret out about Elise Arnold. “What is she like?” Nicole asked. “All I have is Jack’s version, but you and Elise were good friends, and you can give me a woman’s point of view.”

Jenny smiled sadly. “Elise is a special person. At least she was to me. Gentle, sweet, lovely, kind, generous. She’s the kind of person who isn’t capable of hurting anyone.” Jenny’s blue eyes darkened. “I guess that’s why it made me so angry when I realized her husband was abusing her. If anyone didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, it was Elise.”

“You cared for her very much,” Nicole said.

“Very much.” Jenny toyed with her lime sorbet, her voice reflective. “To understand our relationship, you have to understand both of us. Like Elise, I had never made friends easily. In fact, other than Jack—and I suppose you know that twins share a special bond—and Kevin, my husband, I had never really had a close friendship. I’d had what I thought were friends—girls in high school, girls in college—but not the kind of friendship where you felt
safe.
” She directed her intense blue gaze on Nicole. “Do you know what I mean when I say ‘safe’?”